


Better Man

by crochetaway



Series: Drabbles and OneShots [50]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 14:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16042343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crochetaway/pseuds/crochetaway
Summary: Aurora Sinistra lived for the stars above her head until someone came along to drag her back down to earth.





	Better Man

**Author's Note:**

> **Written for Sing-Me-A-Rare B-Side. Much love to my alpha RachaelLa26 and my beta brownlark42! Both gave such great input on this piece, it wouldn't be what it is without them.  
> **   
>  **Song Prompt - Better Man, Pearl Jam.**

__

_1983_

* * *

Aurora Sinistra was a bit of a loner at Hogwarts. Most Slytherins kept to themselves, but Aurora more than most. She just didn’t get along with people. People were all so small and petty. Now the stars, on the other hand, were fascinating. Their movements and how they affected even the most mundane of spells had always enthralled Aurora. She spent whole days each in bed, sleeping, just so she could spend the whole night gazing and charting the stars. The stars were the only things that made her feel truly awake—truly alive. They were fascinating and captivating. She didn’t think anything could ever replace the stars. Just thinking about them made her heart soar and her skin tingle. If there were an option for her to go and live among the stars, she would.

After her third year, she dropped every class she could, only picking up Arithmancy in order to improve her charting skills. She rather preferred hiding away from everyone else, and she would have continued doing so had she not run into that Ravenclaw in her fifth year.

Quirinus Quirrell was unlike anyone that Aurora had met. He was as quiet and studious as she, although his focus lay in Defense Against the Dark Arts instead of Astronomy. She could forgive him that because of his single-minded focus on his chosen subject reminded Aurora of herself. He was startlingly intelligent and she admired his deliberate, almost stubborn, quest for knowledge. Nothing could stop him from pursuing his interests. At first, when Quirrell approached her, she brushed him off. What did she want with a sixth year Ravenclaw? But he continued to seek her out; even following her to the Astronomy tower, and allowing her as much silence as she wanted while she charted the night sky.

Finally, almost two months after he sought her out, she asked him what he wanted.

“To know how to love something as much as you love Astronomy,” Quirrell had answered. Aurora had been taken back at his response. He certainly didn’t sound like any teenage boy she knew.

“Don’t you love Defense that way?” Aurora asked.

Quirrell peered at her and nodded slowly. “Maybe, but to truly defend against something, you have to study what you are defending against.”

Aurora’s eyes widened at the implication that Quirrell was studying the Dark Arts. As a Slytherin, it wasn’t unheard of. Plenty of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families were heavily involved in the Dark Arts, but people didn’t usually talk so openly about it.

“Do you love the Dark Arts the way you _should_ love Defense?” Aurora asked.

Quirrell’s eyes widened and a slow smile formed on his face. “It seems we do understand each other,” he murmured. “Call me Rinn.”

“Rinn?” Aurora asked.

“Quirinus is a fucking mouthful,” Rinn shook his head with a laugh. “My parents were _way_ too into alliteration.”

Aurora quirked up her lips at that. “Rinn it is then. Aurora.” She held out her hand and he shook it gently.

After that, Aurora and Rinn were practically inseparable. Rinn didn’t care what people thought about him and he was frequently found sitting with Aurora at the Slytherin table. Aurora also didn’t care what people thought about her, but she wasn’t about to buck Slytherin norms by sitting elsewhere. Nor did she want to look desperate. She wasn’t desperate for Rinn’s attention, although she certainly didn’t mind it. Rinn was the first boy to show interest in Aurora. Really, the first person to ever show her any attention. Even her parents were a little standoffish, a bit cold, and somewhat indifferent to Aurora.

Aurora loved sharing the dazzle of the stars with Rinn. He _listened_ to her and asked such intelligent and unexpected questions. He was bright enough that she could bounce ideas off of him, even though he didn’t always understand them. Rinn was the best sounding board for her hypotheses—things she knew would change the discipline for decades to come.

Even though they didn’t share their academic disciplines, Rinn was still willing to stay up all night with her. It was a good change for Aurora, not having to shiver on the tower by herself. It wasn’t something she had expected. And she found once she had it she didn’t know if she could give it up. It was lovely that he let her revel in the stars and still stayed by her side. She’d never had that before.

Her only qualms came when they talked about how they could change the world. Aurora knew she would be able to bring so much more to the field of Astronomy, and Rinn was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts. But there was always a little dissonance in how Rinn talked about the Dark Arts. Aurora was never quite sure about the glint in his eyes when he discussed various dark methods. They always seemed to excite him much more than defense, and he was never specific about what his exact goals were. She wanted to press him more about his plans, but she told herself that his obvious determination, his almost fervent commitment to whatever he sought, was enough. She didn’t need to know his intended path, as long as he still had that hungry spark in his eyes, the one that told her he would get what he wanted. She just hoped what he wanted was actually good for him.

Once, he’d asked her about whether or not the movement of the stars could be used to hurt people. She answered, although tentatively and academically, that the movement of the stars only influenced magic. Then she’d asked him why. His response left her unsettled, making her think he might be lying to her. It was something he’d never done before; he’d changed the subject, and Aurora put it out of her mind.

* * *

It was halfway through her sixth year that Aurora realized that Rinn would be leaving her soon. She had anticipated his upcoming graduation, but she hadn’t been prepared for the conversations they were having. Rinn wanted to travel the world, to learn about Dark Magic and the defense of it from other cultures. He was outlining his plan as they were nestled into a warm, knit blanket on top of the Astronomy Tower. Rinn had his arm thrown over Aurora’s shoulders. For once she wasn’t busy charting the night sky or working Arithmantic equations on which way the stars would move and influence magic next. She was just enjoying the warmth of Rinn, the comfort of another person holding her.

“You make me a better man,” Rinn whispered into her temple. “You make me want to _be_ a better man.”

“You are a good man,” Aurora insisted. She turned slightly, so she could gaze into Rinn’s face. He had a faraway look in his eyes and Aurora reached a hand up to cup his cheek, bringing his focus back to her. His dark eyes bored into her own and she admired the difference his pale skin made against the dark color of her hand. “You _are_ a good man.”

“Perhaps,” Rinn quirked his lips. “When I’m with you, at least.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against Aurora’s. She couldn’t stop the flutter in her heart or the need to push back against him, the need to deepen the kiss. “Perhaps for you, I will be,” Rinn murmured as he kissed along her jaw toward her ear. Aurora shuddered and resolved to enjoy the time she was able to spend with Rinn before he left Hogwarts for good.

The day Rinn and Aurora parted for good, she’d given him a crushing hug at King’s Cross station. “I hope you’ll be able to pursue your interests and learn and become the strong wizard I know you are,” she said, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“For you, I will be,” he promised again. By the time she began her seventh year, she would be alone once more at the top of the Astronomy tower.

* * *

_1985_

* * *

Maybe Aurora should have expected it: Rinn turned up at King’s Cross the day she stepped off the Hogwarts Express for the last time. They’d exchanged owls twice a month the entire time he’d been off traveling the world and he’d never mentioned that he would be back in Britain.

“Rinn!” she shouted the moment she saw him. His grin was huge and she didn’t notice at first how skinny he’d become. It wasn’t until she pulled away from him that she realized he was practically gaunt. “How are you?”

“As well as I can be.” Rinn grinned tightly. “Let’s go grab some dinner. Are your parents here, waiting on you?” He looked around the chaos of the platform but Aurora shook her head.

“I’ve secured an apartment for myself in Diagon Alley,” she explained. “I’m planning an apprenticeship under Master Ogunati.”

“That’s brilliant, love,” Rinn enthused. He grasped her around the waist and spun her around. Aurora laughed at his exuberance, putting aside her worry about his appearance and where he’d been during his travels. “Definitely a dinner to celebrate.”

* * *

_1991_

* * *

Aurora and Rinn kept in touch over the following years, but Rinn continued to travel the world while Aurora returned to Hogwarts after earning her Mastery. She longed for Rinn to settle down with her, but she would never say that to him. Aurora was thrilled when she found out that Rinn would be coming to Hogwarts for the next school year to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. She tried to suppress her pleasure, but couldn’t stop the staccato beat of her heart.

He arrived in Britain in May and Aurora sent him an owl to meet. She’d been alone for so many years that she tried to tell herself she was used to it. But the thought of seeing Rinn again made her pulse race and her arms break out in gooseflesh. She couldn’t wait to take him to the top of the Astronomy tower again; to spend nights with him, gazing at the stars, like they did as school children.

The Three Broomsticks was crowded when Aurora left the school to meet Rinn. It was evening, and it seemed like most of the village was in the pub. She only had a few hours to get back to the school before her midnight class.

She almost didn’t recognize Rinn when she saw him. He was exceedingly thin, and wearing a strange purple turban.

“Rinn?” she asked as she approached the table.

“Aurora!” His greeting was tired—even though he seemed to project as much enthusiasm as he could into it.

“How are you?” Aurora asked into his chest as he squeezed her tight. He smelled different and she wrinkled her nose.

“As well as I can be,” he said, pushing her back to look at her. “You are looking very well, indeed.”

Aurora flushed at the compliment and took a seat across from him at the small table. Rinn reached over grasping her hands in his. They trembled, something she’d never noticed in the past, and felt clammy.

“Are you alright, Rinn? You seem out of sorts?” Aurora asked.

Rinn winced and glanced away from her, pulling his hands away as well. “I’m fine, Aurora. Better than fine really. And I’ll be back at Hogwarts soon—back with you.”

She smiled but felt an unease that slowly gave way to disappointment throughout the course of the evening. She could feel her heart breaking in her chest. The man before her was not Rinn. Not the Rinn she knew once before. This man was scared of something; trembling and stuttering. He didn’t once ask her any questions about her research and he showed no interested in the stars she loved so much. He didn’t talk about his former passions. And when his travels came up in conversation, he’d changed the subject. When Aurora asked him about his lesson plans for the upcoming school year, at last, his eyes sparkled with something like interest but his trembling increased and he began stuttering and talking almost too quickly for Aurora to keep up.

By the end of the evening, Aurora knew that there would be no going back to the relationship they’d had as teenagers. Rinn was too strange now, too different. She’d attempted a hug, but he’d pushed her away before she got too close. Despite the change in their relationship, Aurora was determined to be his friend and try to support him. She wanted to figure out what had changed. Because something had—and it seemed to frighten Rinn as much as it frightened Aurora.

Her worst fears were realized when the end of the school year came and Rinn was revealed to harbor something dark. Something that resulted in his death. She’d had higher hopes for him, for his potential to become a remarkable wizard. She knew he could have been a better man but she’d been terrified of tying him down. Terrified of clipping his wings and holding him back. He had been so smart and passionate, beautiful and complicated when they were younger. It had grieved her to see him fall apart as the year went on.

It took her far longer than she wished to forgive the Potter boy for Rinn’s murder. She knew it wasn’t Potter’s fault.

The next time Aurora was up all night alone in the Astronomy tower, she found herself wistfully wanting to believe that she could wish upon one of the stars she knew so well. She wanted the stars to be powerful enough to change someone’s path. _She had tried too late._ She wished she could go back and stop Rinn from leaving. Help him be the man he wanted to be. The man Aurora wanted him to be.


End file.
